Read Online Fair Land, Fair Land by A. B. Guthrie Jr. - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: A. B. Guthrie Jr.
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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breathing."
" You goin' to put him out of his misery?"
Summers got down on one knee, resting his Hawken on
the other. "Ephraim. Old Ephraim," he said.
" How's that?"
" I call to mind- " He didn't go on. He
called to mind old days with the beaver traps, and young men, the
traps lifted, sitting around campfires, and they would speak of Old
Ephraim, the great white bear, and their tones held respect and awe
and a sort of love, as if Ephraim somehow was a part of tlhem, a
living marker of the wild life they lived. Old Ephraim.
" He don't belong here," he said. "He
belongs out on the plains. Drove here, that's what."
" But here he is. So what?"
Summers went on, "That Lewis and Clark party,
now, they kilt ten of them by the great falls of the Missouri. Why?
Why in hell?"
" You goin' to pray over him, Dick, or get it
over with?"
" It ain't right. Why don't they leave him
alone?"
" I never heard you take on over a critter, and
him nigh onto dead."
" It's not just the one I'm thinkin' on. It's the
whole breed, the whole goddamn family. What can you say later on?
‘Yep, there was grizzlies in them days? There was Ephraim. You
should have seen him."
" That ain't helpin' this bear."
Summers rose and handed his rifle to Higgins. "Keep
a bead on him. You never can tell."
He walked back to the horses and took an old bucket
from a pack. At a seep of water he made a hole with the bucket and
filled it.
"Be damn ready to fire," he told Higgins on
his return. "This here"s a mite chancy."
He walked soft to the head of the bear and splashed
it with water. No action. He began to pour slowly. At last a tongue
came out and licked and licked again. He walked back to the hole he
had dug and refilled the bucket. He stopped by the horses and took a
haunch of the deer he had shot the night before. Higgins stood
silent, the rifle steady.
Summers put the full bucket down and with it the
haunch of deer. To Higgins he said, "We'Il go back to where we
was. Good day to do up the washin'."
He felt Higgins' eyes on him as they returned to the
horses.
He heard Higgins say as if to himself, "This
here is crazy. A rare sparrow, that's you, Dick Summers."
Yeah. Hig might be right.
11
SUMMERS kept his horse to a fast walk, feeling clean
for once and freshened by cleanliness. They had washed out some
clothes and greasy rags the afternoon before, flopping the things in
the river current and slapping them on rocks. At least the smell went
out of them.
Afterward they had bathed, in water cold enough to
curl a man's hair, not to mention other parts, and stood on the bank,
shivering, and let the weather dry them.
Higgins had asked, "How in hell did the mountain
men keep clean?"
" Mostly, they wasn't too tidy. From fall freeze
to spring thaw they molded in their clothes, unless the weather was
good enough to set traps. Then they got wet leastwise."
" I bet they stunk."
" They had all outdoors to stink in."
Now they were nearing the spot where they'd seen the
big bear. "Watch sharp," Summers said. "I ain't
lookin' for a charge, but you never can tell."
" I'm bettin' he's dead."
At the turn in the trail the horses began acting up,
though not so much as before. Summers spoke to Feather and kicked him
on. The bear was gone and so was the meat they had left. The bucket
lay in a bush.
" You lose your bet," Summers said. "He
drank and et and got up, and like as not is layin' somewhere close.
Keep your eye peeled." He slid from his horse, handed the reins
to Higgins, took a forequarter of the doe he had shot and laid it in
the trail. Then he picked up the bucket and tied it on.
" You takin' on another mouth to feed?"
Higgins asked. His face was squinched up, in disagreement or thought.
" It won't hurt, for the time bein'."
They rode on and came, at about the middle of the
day, to a tiny stream where they let the horses drink.
" Notice anything?" Summers asked.
" Not what I ain't seen before."
" The water's flowin' east. We're over the
" You goin' to put him out of his misery?"
Summers got down on one knee, resting his Hawken on
the other. "Ephraim. Old Ephraim," he said.
" How's that?"
" I call to mind- " He didn't go on. He
called to mind old days with the beaver traps, and young men, the
traps lifted, sitting around campfires, and they would speak of Old
Ephraim, the great white bear, and their tones held respect and awe
and a sort of love, as if Ephraim somehow was a part of tlhem, a
living marker of the wild life they lived. Old Ephraim.
" He don't belong here," he said. "He
belongs out on the plains. Drove here, that's what."
" But here he is. So what?"
Summers went on, "That Lewis and Clark party,
now, they kilt ten of them by the great falls of the Missouri. Why?
Why in hell?"
" You goin' to pray over him, Dick, or get it
over with?"
" It ain't right. Why don't they leave him
alone?"
" I never heard you take on over a critter, and
him nigh onto dead."
" It's not just the one I'm thinkin' on. It's the
whole breed, the whole goddamn family. What can you say later on?
‘Yep, there was grizzlies in them days? There was Ephraim. You
should have seen him."
" That ain't helpin' this bear."
Summers rose and handed his rifle to Higgins. "Keep
a bead on him. You never can tell."
He walked back to the horses and took an old bucket
from a pack. At a seep of water he made a hole with the bucket and
filled it.
"Be damn ready to fire," he told Higgins on
his return. "This here"s a mite chancy."
He walked soft to the head of the bear and splashed
it with water. No action. He began to pour slowly. At last a tongue
came out and licked and licked again. He walked back to the hole he
had dug and refilled the bucket. He stopped by the horses and took a
haunch of the deer he had shot the night before. Higgins stood
silent, the rifle steady.
Summers put the full bucket down and with it the
haunch of deer. To Higgins he said, "We'Il go back to where we
was. Good day to do up the washin'."
He felt Higgins' eyes on him as they returned to the
horses.
He heard Higgins say as if to himself, "This
here is crazy. A rare sparrow, that's you, Dick Summers."
Yeah. Hig might be right.
11
SUMMERS kept his horse to a fast walk, feeling clean
for once and freshened by cleanliness. They had washed out some
clothes and greasy rags the afternoon before, flopping the things in
the river current and slapping them on rocks. At least the smell went
out of them.
Afterward they had bathed, in water cold enough to
curl a man's hair, not to mention other parts, and stood on the bank,
shivering, and let the weather dry them.
Higgins had asked, "How in hell did the mountain
men keep clean?"
" Mostly, they wasn't too tidy. From fall freeze
to spring thaw they molded in their clothes, unless the weather was
good enough to set traps. Then they got wet leastwise."
" I bet they stunk."
" They had all outdoors to stink in."
Now they were nearing the spot where they'd seen the
big bear. "Watch sharp," Summers said. "I ain't
lookin' for a charge, but you never can tell."
" I'm bettin' he's dead."
At the turn in the trail the horses began acting up,
though not so much as before. Summers spoke to Feather and kicked him
on. The bear was gone and so was the meat they had left. The bucket
lay in a bush.
" You lose your bet," Summers said. "He
drank and et and got up, and like as not is layin' somewhere close.
Keep your eye peeled." He slid from his horse, handed the reins
to Higgins, took a forequarter of the doe he had shot and laid it in
the trail. Then he picked up the bucket and tied it on.
" You takin' on another mouth to feed?"
Higgins asked. His face was squinched up, in disagreement or thought.
" It won't hurt, for the time bein'."
They rode on and came, at about the middle of the
day, to a tiny stream where they let the horses drink.
" Notice anything?" Summers asked.
" Not what I ain't seen before."
" The water's flowin' east. We're over the
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